Snippets and random thoughts on our life in Paris. Although the interesting stuff seems to more about our adventures away from Paris, but whatever. We live in Paris, we like to travel, we like to eat, and voila. Enjoy.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Hotel de Ville
On Wednesday night, Erik and I were invited to the Hotel de Ville for a reception for the Accueil des Recherhceurs Etrangeres. Unsure of what to expect, we dolled ourselves up, and headed out the door. I felt a big strange all dressed up at 5:00, and once we got there, the dress code was all over the place, but it was fun to get dressed up for once, and do something that seemed pretty fancy.
This was an invite only event, and it took us about an hour to get through the line up, security and coat check. Once we got to the room where the event was being held, the both thing we both said was "I wish we had the camera!!" Luckily the cell phones came through in a pinch, and we can share a taste of our evening with you. This place is fantastic! As Erik said, the French really know how to go over the top with elaborate decorations.
The evening was started by a speech by the mayor of Paris, and a speech by someone official in charge of welcoming scientists. Basically, they were throwing the party because the city of Paris wants it's foreign researchers (900 in the Paris area) to feel welcome, and to have a good time while in France.
After the speeches, a band came out. There was a live band that played the whole evening, complete with harmonica playing lead singer. After their first song, the buffet opened, and things really got going. We had been hovering around these tables anxiously awaiting a glass of champagne. Not only was their champagne, but appetizers as well, an assortment of smoked salmon treats, and then later bite sized desserts. Yumm!
It was great! When else would be we able to wander around a couple of rooms in the Hotel de Ville with a glass (or two, or three...) of champagne? The building was absolutely beautiful. Frescoed ceilings with ornate carvings, huge staircases, and floor to ceiling mirrors, Erik is looking forward to being invited to many more fancy events in the future. I am too.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Strikes affect all aspects of daily life in France....
Our oven went on strike in the middle of cooking dinner tonight.
Diet Food
I was perusing the low-fat yogurt aisle (yes, it has it's own aisle. Regular yogurt is around the corner), and had to laugh when I saw a package that proudly announced: Low fat! Only 8% fat!
When would you ever see that in North America?!
Everything in moderation.
When would you ever see that in North America?!
Everything in moderation.
Steeeeriiiikkkke!
As you might have guessed from our previous post on Daylight Savings, we live under a bit of a rock here in Paris. When I recieved an email from my Wed/Sat. school saying that they would be closed today, and possibly Wed, I didn't really think much of it, except to cross my fingers for them staying closed on Wednesday.
Erik finally clued me in around noon yesterday by telling me about the transit strike and protests that were scheduled for today. It was a bit exciting. We went for a walk last night, and we were both half hoping that we wouldn't be able to make it to work. It was such nice day yesterday too, that I joked that the strikers just wanted an excuse to enjoy the weather. We went for a run this morning, and many cafes were setting up their chairs at 7am, perhaps anticipating a busier than usual Tuesday crowd (it's not just the trains that are taking a stand, schools, post offices, government offices, and banks were also supposed to be striking).
With statistics like 1 out of every 2 metro trains running, and half the RER trains in service, both Erik and I were a bit skeptical about the success of our commutes today. Erik was planning on only staying for half the day, in case it was really difficult to get back. I left the house a mere ten minutes early, not even sure if the Jardin was open.
By the time I got into the station, Erik had already sent me a texto to tell me that he was only 15 minutes late. No biggy. I got to work right on time, maybe I had to wait a bit longer than usual, and the trains were a bit more squised, but if I hadn't known there was a strike, I probably wouldn't have thought twice about it.
The highlight of my commute this morning was two separate people on two separate trains who complained about being pushed and squeezed. It's hard not to laugh when everyone on the train is packed in as tightly as sardines, and the fact that someone is complaining about being pushed means that they have more room than they deserve. I made sure to give them a good jostle on my way out.
Ride home at noon was equally uneventful. Saw a group of protesters march down a street near our place. I would have watched more, but it was raining, and I had to stick my head out the window to see them. So that's it. I'm still hoping for a school closure tomorrow, but the fact that I'm really excited about the possibility means I definetly won't happen.
Erik finally clued me in around noon yesterday by telling me about the transit strike and protests that were scheduled for today. It was a bit exciting. We went for a walk last night, and we were both half hoping that we wouldn't be able to make it to work. It was such nice day yesterday too, that I joked that the strikers just wanted an excuse to enjoy the weather. We went for a run this morning, and many cafes were setting up their chairs at 7am, perhaps anticipating a busier than usual Tuesday crowd (it's not just the trains that are taking a stand, schools, post offices, government offices, and banks were also supposed to be striking).
With statistics like 1 out of every 2 metro trains running, and half the RER trains in service, both Erik and I were a bit skeptical about the success of our commutes today. Erik was planning on only staying for half the day, in case it was really difficult to get back. I left the house a mere ten minutes early, not even sure if the Jardin was open.
By the time I got into the station, Erik had already sent me a texto to tell me that he was only 15 minutes late. No biggy. I got to work right on time, maybe I had to wait a bit longer than usual, and the trains were a bit more squised, but if I hadn't known there was a strike, I probably wouldn't have thought twice about it.
The highlight of my commute this morning was two separate people on two separate trains who complained about being pushed and squeezed. It's hard not to laugh when everyone on the train is packed in as tightly as sardines, and the fact that someone is complaining about being pushed means that they have more room than they deserve. I made sure to give them a good jostle on my way out.
Ride home at noon was equally uneventful. Saw a group of protesters march down a street near our place. I would have watched more, but it was raining, and I had to stick my head out the window to see them. So that's it. I'm still hoping for a school closure tomorrow, but the fact that I'm really excited about the possibility means I definetly won't happen.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Daylight Savings
Erik and I were busy today getting the house cleaned up, and dinner ready for our meal tonight. We thought we were doing quite well, and I was just getting started on dessert at 4:00. Weren't we surprised then to hear the buzzer.
"Who could it be?" we wondered.
I was Bicher and Roeline, an hour early, we thought. We quickly got dressed, and I finished up the dessert, and Erik got going on his risotto. Despite the headstart, the meal was fine, and it wasn't until we were having tea at the end that Bicher and Roeline start talking about moving their clocks ahead. Apparently today was the end (or start? I can never keep it straight) of Daylight Savings time. They weren't an hour early, they were actually right on time. Erik and I felt so stupid for having no idea.
So, for all of you wanting to call us, we're an hour ahead now, and I'm not sure when DS changes in Canada, so keep us posted.
For those who are interested, the dinner menu:
Appetizer:
Pear and Goat Cheese Tart, served with a green salad.
Main Course:
Chicken Breasts stuffed with mozzarella, rosemary and mushrooms; Erik's famous risotto
Cheeses:
Chaource; Roquefort; Cantal
Dessert:
Brownies
"Who could it be?" we wondered.
I was Bicher and Roeline, an hour early, we thought. We quickly got dressed, and I finished up the dessert, and Erik got going on his risotto. Despite the headstart, the meal was fine, and it wasn't until we were having tea at the end that Bicher and Roeline start talking about moving their clocks ahead. Apparently today was the end (or start? I can never keep it straight) of Daylight Savings time. They weren't an hour early, they were actually right on time. Erik and I felt so stupid for having no idea.
So, for all of you wanting to call us, we're an hour ahead now, and I'm not sure when DS changes in Canada, so keep us posted.
For those who are interested, the dinner menu:
Appetizer:
Pear and Goat Cheese Tart, served with a green salad.
Main Course:
Chicken Breasts stuffed with mozzarella, rosemary and mushrooms; Erik's famous risotto
Cheeses:
Chaource; Roquefort; Cantal
Dessert:
Brownies
Dining in the Dark
To know how sweet your home may be, just try to get home in a taxi.
Last night we went out with Zoe, Hilary, Alex and some other friends to celebrate Alex's birthday. Zoe had chosen a restaurant in the Bastille area, but unfortunately the only time she could get a table was at 10:00.
No problem, not feeling so hot, I had a long nap in the afternoon, and a snack on the way over. We went to Hilary's apartment in the Marais for drinks beforehand, and then took the metro over together to the China Club, and neat place in the 12th arrondissement.
The China Club is a three storey establishment, with a jazz club in the basement and a smoking room upstairs. The main floor has high ceilings and is decorated, according to LP, "like a tropical gentleman's club."
When we arrived shortly after ten, our table was still not ready, so we sidled up to the long bar and perused the drink menu. After scouring the three pages of cocktails on offer, we enjoyed our apperitifs and some snacks before making our way to the now-ready table. It was now 10:40.
The restaurant was beautiful, we had a nice round table in the corner, and the food was Chinese inspired, served French style. We all chose the menu, which consisted of an appetizer of a pineapple salad, or dim sum dumplings; a plat of tempura style chicken, roast pork, or steamed salmon; and a dessert. The food was lovely, the service was unrushed, and we took our time enjoying our meal and each other's company.
The plan for after dinner was to go dancing. It was 2:00am by the time we actually left the restaurant, and I was done for the evening. The girls were planning on catching a cab to the next place, and we were going to get one home. Sounds simple. But you forget, nothing is simple in Paris.
We walk to the taxi stand at La Bastille. The line up is almost a block long, and we are told by the uncertified cabbie trying to get our business that the wait would be at least 45 minutes. Still feeling optimistic, the girls take off on foot to the club, and we decide to walk to Hotel de Ville where the is another popular taxi stand. We stop at one in the Marais on our way, wait 20 minutes in the rain and not a single cab comes. Keep going. By the time we get to Hotel de Ville it's 3:30, and Erik and I have decided that it's probably faster just to walk home. Did I mention that it was raining?
We continue our hike over Ile de la Cite, in front of Notre Dame, and into the Latin Quarter. Once we get close to the university buildings we notice that the street we are following is completely barricaded, and there is a bus full of police guarding it. We skirt around the campus, and find that all the streets leading in are barricaded and guarded. We saw a couple heading home, and they had to show ID to go up the street to their house. Everything seemed quiet though, and once we got to the Jardin Luxembourg, we managed to get a cab.
I don't think we had ever been so happy to be home. We almost fell asleep in the elevator (yes, we took the elevator!! It was 4am. Not a time to be exercising).
We could not figure out where all the cabs were! It was so strange to be walking through a city that was teeming with people, who all seemed to be looking for a cab, and not be able to just flag one down. There were taxi queues everywhere, and huge line ups at all of them. And it wasn't a question of just getting in the cab once it was your turn, either. You had to discuss your destination with the driver first, then, maybe, he (or she) would take you.
So we are home, safe and sound, and are having people over for dinner tonight. Our first guests, Bicher and Roeline helped us move in. We're looking forward to entertaining, got all our shopping done yesterday, and are looking forward to a day of cooking.
China Club
50 rue de Charenton, 12e
Last night we went out with Zoe, Hilary, Alex and some other friends to celebrate Alex's birthday. Zoe had chosen a restaurant in the Bastille area, but unfortunately the only time she could get a table was at 10:00.
No problem, not feeling so hot, I had a long nap in the afternoon, and a snack on the way over. We went to Hilary's apartment in the Marais for drinks beforehand, and then took the metro over together to the China Club, and neat place in the 12th arrondissement.
The China Club is a three storey establishment, with a jazz club in the basement and a smoking room upstairs. The main floor has high ceilings and is decorated, according to LP, "like a tropical gentleman's club."
When we arrived shortly after ten, our table was still not ready, so we sidled up to the long bar and perused the drink menu. After scouring the three pages of cocktails on offer, we enjoyed our apperitifs and some snacks before making our way to the now-ready table. It was now 10:40.
The restaurant was beautiful, we had a nice round table in the corner, and the food was Chinese inspired, served French style. We all chose the menu, which consisted of an appetizer of a pineapple salad, or dim sum dumplings; a plat of tempura style chicken, roast pork, or steamed salmon; and a dessert. The food was lovely, the service was unrushed, and we took our time enjoying our meal and each other's company.
The plan for after dinner was to go dancing. It was 2:00am by the time we actually left the restaurant, and I was done for the evening. The girls were planning on catching a cab to the next place, and we were going to get one home. Sounds simple. But you forget, nothing is simple in Paris.
We walk to the taxi stand at La Bastille. The line up is almost a block long, and we are told by the uncertified cabbie trying to get our business that the wait would be at least 45 minutes. Still feeling optimistic, the girls take off on foot to the club, and we decide to walk to Hotel de Ville where the is another popular taxi stand. We stop at one in the Marais on our way, wait 20 minutes in the rain and not a single cab comes. Keep going. By the time we get to Hotel de Ville it's 3:30, and Erik and I have decided that it's probably faster just to walk home. Did I mention that it was raining?
We continue our hike over Ile de la Cite, in front of Notre Dame, and into the Latin Quarter. Once we get close to the university buildings we notice that the street we are following is completely barricaded, and there is a bus full of police guarding it. We skirt around the campus, and find that all the streets leading in are barricaded and guarded. We saw a couple heading home, and they had to show ID to go up the street to their house. Everything seemed quiet though, and once we got to the Jardin Luxembourg, we managed to get a cab.
I don't think we had ever been so happy to be home. We almost fell asleep in the elevator (yes, we took the elevator!! It was 4am. Not a time to be exercising).
We could not figure out where all the cabs were! It was so strange to be walking through a city that was teeming with people, who all seemed to be looking for a cab, and not be able to just flag one down. There were taxi queues everywhere, and huge line ups at all of them. And it wasn't a question of just getting in the cab once it was your turn, either. You had to discuss your destination with the driver first, then, maybe, he (or she) would take you.
So we are home, safe and sound, and are having people over for dinner tonight. Our first guests, Bicher and Roeline helped us move in. We're looking forward to entertaining, got all our shopping done yesterday, and are looking forward to a day of cooking.
China Club
50 rue de Charenton, 12e
Friday, March 24, 2006
Thuy Long
Last week Erik and I tried out a vietnamese restaurant that the Lonely Planet mentioned in our neighbourhood. LP has been a bit hit or miss for restaurant recommendations, so we went into this one without any real expectations at all. We didn't want a fancy meal, just good food, or even decent food. The place is right around the corner from our place, and we probably would have never have gone in if it hadn't been for the LP.
What a good find this place was! When we left after the first visit, I decided it was the best meal that we had had since being here. We've been to some pretty good restaurants, but when you go in to a meal with absolutely no expectations, and then are pleasantly surprised by the delicious fresh tasting meal you are served, you can't help but be impressed. Perhaps the best part was that it was possibly even better than our favorite vietnamese restaurant in Toronto, Pho Hung. Thuy Long is owned by a friendly couple, who are eager to talk to their customers. The name of their restaurant is their two first names, and she does all the cooking. The place is tiny, and you can watch her prepare all the meals. So satisfying! It doesn't hurt that the three course menu comes in under 10euros. We went there for dinner again tonight, and we weren't dissapointed. Vietnamese food is refreshingly light and flavourful (in my opinion) in comparison to French food, and it's nice to know that a satisfying meal is so close to home.
Thuy Long
111 rue Vaugirard
So I have to aplogize for the lack of posts this week. Some of our fans were getting anxious, but not to worry, we're fine. It's just been a fairly uneventful week, but here are the highlights:
Inspired by our friends back home in Toronto who are buying houses, we jumped on the big-purchase bandwagon and bought a washing machine. Of course we didn't learn our lesson with the oven, and bought another floor model, which also arrived without a manual. The machine did conveniently come with a one page piece of paper with a drawings-only diagram of how to hook it up. Not surprisingly it didn't answer all our questions, and Erik had to ask for some outside help (thanks Howard!). Hopefully it will be up and running tomorrow. Erik is going to miss the laundromat.
We bought tickets to Valencia, Spain this week. We'll be soaking up the sun for three days while Karina is here visiting in April. Although it is finally warming up here, it is still consistently wet and grey.
This week was the third time in as many weeks that I got to deal with kids who had accidents at the Jardin (sounds so much better than Nursery School). I thought I was home-free this Thursday by the end of recess, but just before we went in, one kid couldn't get his pants down fast enough (another reason why jogging pants are such a great idea!)
Today was the Spring party at the Jardin. Seriously, I don't think there is anything cuter than a school full of kids dressed up as bumble bees, lady bugs, flowers, gardeners and butterflies. It was great. I almost forgot that I was feeling pretty lousy, I've caught a cold (probably from the same germ producing, but unbelievably cute kids) and barely made it to work today.
I finished my report cards, and sent one of my Wednesday afternoon kids to the office. That class is my least favorite by a mile, and they just drive me nuts!
And there you go. Our week. For all of you who care, I still don't have a fully functioning bank card. We've combined been to about 5 different branches of SG to try and get it fixed, and have gotten about 10 different reasons why it can't be done (my favorite was the guy who told me that the bank was broken. When I asked what other branch I could go to, he told me they were all broken). Erik finally sweet-talked his favorite teller in Lozere into just ordering me another card, but she really really really didn't want to do it.
I'll try to post more regularly this week. With report cards done, I have no excuse. I'm also working on getting Erik to post, he has some funny stories to share about work.
What a good find this place was! When we left after the first visit, I decided it was the best meal that we had had since being here. We've been to some pretty good restaurants, but when you go in to a meal with absolutely no expectations, and then are pleasantly surprised by the delicious fresh tasting meal you are served, you can't help but be impressed. Perhaps the best part was that it was possibly even better than our favorite vietnamese restaurant in Toronto, Pho Hung. Thuy Long is owned by a friendly couple, who are eager to talk to their customers. The name of their restaurant is their two first names, and she does all the cooking. The place is tiny, and you can watch her prepare all the meals. So satisfying! It doesn't hurt that the three course menu comes in under 10euros. We went there for dinner again tonight, and we weren't dissapointed. Vietnamese food is refreshingly light and flavourful (in my opinion) in comparison to French food, and it's nice to know that a satisfying meal is so close to home.
Thuy Long
111 rue Vaugirard
So I have to aplogize for the lack of posts this week. Some of our fans were getting anxious, but not to worry, we're fine. It's just been a fairly uneventful week, but here are the highlights:
Inspired by our friends back home in Toronto who are buying houses, we jumped on the big-purchase bandwagon and bought a washing machine. Of course we didn't learn our lesson with the oven, and bought another floor model, which also arrived without a manual. The machine did conveniently come with a one page piece of paper with a drawings-only diagram of how to hook it up. Not surprisingly it didn't answer all our questions, and Erik had to ask for some outside help (thanks Howard!). Hopefully it will be up and running tomorrow. Erik is going to miss the laundromat.
We bought tickets to Valencia, Spain this week. We'll be soaking up the sun for three days while Karina is here visiting in April. Although it is finally warming up here, it is still consistently wet and grey.
This week was the third time in as many weeks that I got to deal with kids who had accidents at the Jardin (sounds so much better than Nursery School). I thought I was home-free this Thursday by the end of recess, but just before we went in, one kid couldn't get his pants down fast enough (another reason why jogging pants are such a great idea!)
Today was the Spring party at the Jardin. Seriously, I don't think there is anything cuter than a school full of kids dressed up as bumble bees, lady bugs, flowers, gardeners and butterflies. It was great. I almost forgot that I was feeling pretty lousy, I've caught a cold (probably from the same germ producing, but unbelievably cute kids) and barely made it to work today.
I finished my report cards, and sent one of my Wednesday afternoon kids to the office. That class is my least favorite by a mile, and they just drive me nuts!
And there you go. Our week. For all of you who care, I still don't have a fully functioning bank card. We've combined been to about 5 different branches of SG to try and get it fixed, and have gotten about 10 different reasons why it can't be done (my favorite was the guy who told me that the bank was broken. When I asked what other branch I could go to, he told me they were all broken). Erik finally sweet-talked his favorite teller in Lozere into just ordering me another card, but she really really really didn't want to do it.
I'll try to post more regularly this week. With report cards done, I have no excuse. I'm also working on getting Erik to post, he has some funny stories to share about work.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Metrotainment
Here are some clips of some of the culture that we get free, occasionally, when riding the metro.
This one is of a puppet show that we saw one night. The guy had set up a curtain, and the puppet sang along to the music. Very entertaining.
Some musicians performing on the train.
We'll save the best one for last...this was a sort of string ensemble that gathered inside one of the metro stations. They were absolutely fantastic, and we would have stayed longer to listen to them if we weren't already late to meet people at the Louvre.
And this is the French tree. It is an artistic display of all the French speaking countries. We liked how Canada was the biggest branch, and how they took the time to label Quebec.
This one is of a puppet show that we saw one night. The guy had set up a curtain, and the puppet sang along to the music. Very entertaining.
Some musicians performing on the train.
We'll save the best one for last...this was a sort of string ensemble that gathered inside one of the metro stations. They were absolutely fantastic, and we would have stayed longer to listen to them if we weren't already late to meet people at the Louvre.
And this is the French tree. It is an artistic display of all the French speaking countries. We liked how Canada was the biggest branch, and how they took the time to label Quebec.
One more thing...
So, I mentioned before that my bank card has been blocked for about a week now, and when I went to try and get it fixed, they told me that I had to do it at my home branch (which is at Ecole Polytechnique. Not so convenient).
Erik took the card to school today to get it done, and doesn't the guy say that it can be fixed at any branch (except for the temporary branch at the school, of course). His advice after hearing what happened to me, was to ask for a responsable (manager) next time I go in.
Since this seems to be a recurring theme with all of our service related experiences here, Erik has come up with a solution. Here is a quote from his email: 'From now on, whenever I walk into a store I am going to shout "I would like to speak to your manager please." '
Maybe that's just the way it's done here?
Or maybe it's just a plan to make Erik look crazy...
**Make sure you check out the video that I added to the Report Cards post a couple of days ago. It's old video from Japan, but Erik has some other ones on his phone that will be in a future post...stay tuned**
Erik took the card to school today to get it done, and doesn't the guy say that it can be fixed at any branch (except for the temporary branch at the school, of course). His advice after hearing what happened to me, was to ask for a responsable (manager) next time I go in.
Since this seems to be a recurring theme with all of our service related experiences here, Erik has come up with a solution. Here is a quote from his email: 'From now on, whenever I walk into a store I am going to shout "I would like to speak to your manager please." '
Maybe that's just the way it's done here?
Or maybe it's just a plan to make Erik look crazy...
**Make sure you check out the video that I added to the Report Cards post a couple of days ago. It's old video from Japan, but Erik has some other ones on his phone that will be in a future post...stay tuned**
Cheeseburgers
They were the lunch entree today. Along with french fries and chocolate cake for dessert. The appetizer was a very French oeufs a mayonaise (saved some for the fries). It sure beat last weeks lunch, but wasn't too well recieved by the teachers. Too much bread in the hamburger bun (?). Too filling. Too heavy. The funniest part was that the kids I eat with had no idea what to do with the thing. The burgers were cut in half, so each kid got a half. None of them touched them, so eventually the teachers started taking the meat out of the bun for them (2-3 year olds). They were more than happy to eat their boeuf hachee sans bun, but when that patty was encased in toasted bread, it was beyond them.
One more school tidbit to share. Parental involvement. It's frowned upon. The school is having a spring party next Friday, and all the kids are dressing up as spring things. There is going to be a costume parade, and a special snack. No parents allowed. There are parents assigned from each class to help prepare this special snack, but the teachers got really antsy when the director mentioned that one of parents wanted to serve it. I found out that they don't like to have parents in the school because it is too disruptive (fair enough) and stressful. Apparently they have a special parents lunch in June when the parents can come to the school and eat with the kids. The teachers are already dreading it.
One more school tidbit to share. Parental involvement. It's frowned upon. The school is having a spring party next Friday, and all the kids are dressing up as spring things. There is going to be a costume parade, and a special snack. No parents allowed. There are parents assigned from each class to help prepare this special snack, but the teachers got really antsy when the director mentioned that one of parents wanted to serve it. I found out that they don't like to have parents in the school because it is too disruptive (fair enough) and stressful. Apparently they have a special parents lunch in June when the parents can come to the school and eat with the kids. The teachers are already dreading it.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
American or English?
Now that I've got your attention...the good news. Drum roll please! Our internet works!!! Yay!!! No more mindless hours to be spent waiting for pages to load, or being booted off the networks we were hitchhiking on. Now I can post on the blog at lightning fast speed...
I forgot to wear my watch today. What a pain. Especially because my classroom doesn't have a clock. Thank goodness for cellphones...
Anyway, one of my kids this morning informed me that we don't speak English in Canada. Or in the United States. Here in France, they believe that there are actually two languages. The American language, that all us North Americans speak, and English that is spoken in Britain. I explained that we do actually speak English in North America. Then another student pipes up that the accents are different, that's why the language is different. I then pointed out that we also speak French in Canada, with a different accent, but it's still French. There are Belgians who speak French with a different accent, but it's still French. That seemed to be enough information to satisfy them, but I still don't get it. Since when do the French get to decide what language we speak?
Moving on. It's hard to stay angry about something like that when you've just eaten a super yummy dinner. Tonight it was Conchiglie con Salsa, or shell pasta with a walnut sauce. This is my new favorite super easy meal. The walnuts add a nice crunch, and the cheese and basil are obvious pasta musts. And Erik pointed out that he liked the way that the shell pasta held all the walnuts and sauce (I think he must have peeked at the recipe at some point! It says pretty much the exact same thing).
One last thing. We went to see a French movie last night, les Fauteils de l'Orchestre. For the first half of the movie we thought we were in for a super cheesy French film, but in the end, two of the characters made the movie worth seeing. And it was good practise. Anyway, we went out for coffee afterwards, and I found out that our friend Hilary also has a blog. And she has conveniently posted pictures of our trip to the Louvre in Napoleons apartments (scroll down through the post to see them). There is one quite unflattering picture of me, so, enjoy. Our camera is coming in April with Karina, so we'll have lots of pictures to share soon.
That's it for now. Another Wednesday under my belt, and it's smooth sailing for the rest of the week.
I forgot to wear my watch today. What a pain. Especially because my classroom doesn't have a clock. Thank goodness for cellphones...
Anyway, one of my kids this morning informed me that we don't speak English in Canada. Or in the United States. Here in France, they believe that there are actually two languages. The American language, that all us North Americans speak, and English that is spoken in Britain. I explained that we do actually speak English in North America. Then another student pipes up that the accents are different, that's why the language is different. I then pointed out that we also speak French in Canada, with a different accent, but it's still French. There are Belgians who speak French with a different accent, but it's still French. That seemed to be enough information to satisfy them, but I still don't get it. Since when do the French get to decide what language we speak?
Moving on. It's hard to stay angry about something like that when you've just eaten a super yummy dinner. Tonight it was Conchiglie con Salsa, or shell pasta with a walnut sauce. This is my new favorite super easy meal. The walnuts add a nice crunch, and the cheese and basil are obvious pasta musts. And Erik pointed out that he liked the way that the shell pasta held all the walnuts and sauce (I think he must have peeked at the recipe at some point! It says pretty much the exact same thing).
One last thing. We went to see a French movie last night, les Fauteils de l'Orchestre. For the first half of the movie we thought we were in for a super cheesy French film, but in the end, two of the characters made the movie worth seeing. And it was good practise. Anyway, we went out for coffee afterwards, and I found out that our friend Hilary also has a blog. And she has conveniently posted pictures of our trip to the Louvre in Napoleons apartments (scroll down through the post to see them). There is one quite unflattering picture of me, so, enjoy. Our camera is coming in April with Karina, so we'll have lots of pictures to share soon.
That's it for now. Another Wednesday under my belt, and it's smooth sailing for the rest of the week.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Canada
Just had to share a funny clip art I found while making up some worksheets. Unfortunately I can't figure out how to post the exact clip art, so this picture will have to do.
The keywords that the clipart was tagged with consisted of Canada, Canadians, cheeses, fast food, potatoes, poutine, and Quebec.
The obvious follow up search was for clips of Canada, and you'll be glad to know that the picture of poutine was sandwiched in there between an image of the Canadian flag and a beaver.
Always nice to know that we're well represented on Microsoft Word.
On a somewhat related note, the Google image search that I did to find this picture pulled up some pretty funny results. The worlds largest poutine anyone??
I'm getting hungry..
The keywords that the clipart was tagged with consisted of Canada, Canadians, cheeses, fast food, potatoes, poutine, and Quebec.
The obvious follow up search was for clips of Canada, and you'll be glad to know that the picture of poutine was sandwiched in there between an image of the Canadian flag and a beaver.
Always nice to know that we're well represented on Microsoft Word.
On a somewhat related note, the Google image search that I did to find this picture pulled up some pretty funny results. The worlds largest poutine anyone??
I'm getting hungry..
Running
Yup, I'm still procrastinating.
I've figured out why I never saw anyone going for a run in our old neighborhood. It's because everyone seems to be jogging at the Jardin Luxembourg.
Erik and I decided to go for a run on Sunday. Our new place is close enough to the park, so we decided to head up there and do a couple of laps around the inside. It was about a five minute run up, then maybe 15 minutes to go around once. And it was packed! Not only with kids playing soccer, and sailing boats, but the paths were jammed with all sorts of people going for a run. Old people, young people, serious runners and casual runners (us). I still get a kick out of people who run with jauntilly (sp?) tied scarves. My scarves don't look that good when I'm trying. It was crazy. Some parts were so thick with people we had to slow down. Aside from the traffic though, it was a lovely place to run, and the sun was out, making the fact that it seems to be getting COLDER here less noticeable.
I went out again yesterday morning (I know, I'm a keener. If it makes you feel better, I'm eating chocolate right now. And I had a pastry on the way home from work. Things are going to get pretty dire if I don't start doing some kind of exercise). It wasn't nearly as busy, but there were still quite a few people out for a morning jog. If we could only find a way to fit a regular run into our schedule, we'd be all set. Although Erik seems to have had a pretty consistent routine of carrying laundry and ovens...which reminds me of one more thing I should do before getting to work on those reports. Buy a washing machine.
I've figured out why I never saw anyone going for a run in our old neighborhood. It's because everyone seems to be jogging at the Jardin Luxembourg.
Erik and I decided to go for a run on Sunday. Our new place is close enough to the park, so we decided to head up there and do a couple of laps around the inside. It was about a five minute run up, then maybe 15 minutes to go around once. And it was packed! Not only with kids playing soccer, and sailing boats, but the paths were jammed with all sorts of people going for a run. Old people, young people, serious runners and casual runners (us). I still get a kick out of people who run with jauntilly (sp?) tied scarves. My scarves don't look that good when I'm trying. It was crazy. Some parts were so thick with people we had to slow down. Aside from the traffic though, it was a lovely place to run, and the sun was out, making the fact that it seems to be getting COLDER here less noticeable.
I went out again yesterday morning (I know, I'm a keener. If it makes you feel better, I'm eating chocolate right now. And I had a pastry on the way home from work. Things are going to get pretty dire if I don't start doing some kind of exercise). It wasn't nearly as busy, but there were still quite a few people out for a morning jog. If we could only find a way to fit a regular run into our schedule, we'd be all set. Although Erik seems to have had a pretty consistent routine of carrying laundry and ovens...which reminds me of one more thing I should do before getting to work on those reports. Buy a washing machine.
Medecin du travail
Should be writing report cards.
Instead I thought I should tell you about my doctors visit. At work.
Last week at the private school, the workplace doctor came to visit. And we all had to go unless we had a note from another doctor. Which I didn't.
The visit was off to an ominous start when the secretary at work handed me an empty vial at the start of the day. Not only did I have to pee in a cup at work, but I also had to figure out how to discreetly get it out of the classroom in the middle of the lesson (too much information???).
Anyway, my appointment was right at the beginning of my afternoon class, and I guess the first appointment after lunch for the doctors. I was there right on time, but of course the doctors were late. They were smoking. They reeked. I thought it was funny that they also had a poster in the office that detailed the health hazards of smoking.
I should mention that this office was just a trailor that was parked in the parking lot outside the school. I walked in, and the first doctor wrote down some info, and made me do the vision test (a lot harder in French, that close up reading part). Then I went through to the next room to the next doctor, who wrote down basically the same information again, and asked me all sorts of health questions. In French. It wasn't too difficult. The one thing that he couldn't get over was how all us Americans (I had to keep reminding him that I was Canadian...) don't have records of our immunizations. Well we do, I told him. They're just safely stored away in a variety of different doctor's offices in Canada. Luckily I can remember having a tetanus shot recently, andI have a pretty good idea about the other shots that I've gotten, so that seemed to be good enough for him. And that was about it. He listened to my heart and took my blood pressure (normal, thankfully!), and sent me on my way. Pretty painless.
As this was my first visit, he took the time to tell me a little about why I was there. It is mandatory at all workplaces. Apparently its primary focus is to monitor people with conditions like diabetes and epilepsy, but he also said it provided the service of being an anonymous place for employees to report any abuse or sexual harassement that is occuring at work.
Instead I thought I should tell you about my doctors visit. At work.
Last week at the private school, the workplace doctor came to visit. And we all had to go unless we had a note from another doctor. Which I didn't.
The visit was off to an ominous start when the secretary at work handed me an empty vial at the start of the day. Not only did I have to pee in a cup at work, but I also had to figure out how to discreetly get it out of the classroom in the middle of the lesson (too much information???).
Anyway, my appointment was right at the beginning of my afternoon class, and I guess the first appointment after lunch for the doctors. I was there right on time, but of course the doctors were late. They were smoking. They reeked. I thought it was funny that they also had a poster in the office that detailed the health hazards of smoking.
I should mention that this office was just a trailor that was parked in the parking lot outside the school. I walked in, and the first doctor wrote down some info, and made me do the vision test (a lot harder in French, that close up reading part). Then I went through to the next room to the next doctor, who wrote down basically the same information again, and asked me all sorts of health questions. In French. It wasn't too difficult. The one thing that he couldn't get over was how all us Americans (I had to keep reminding him that I was Canadian...) don't have records of our immunizations. Well we do, I told him. They're just safely stored away in a variety of different doctor's offices in Canada. Luckily I can remember having a tetanus shot recently, andI have a pretty good idea about the other shots that I've gotten, so that seemed to be good enough for him. And that was about it. He listened to my heart and took my blood pressure (normal, thankfully!), and sent me on my way. Pretty painless.
As this was my first visit, he took the time to tell me a little about why I was there. It is mandatory at all workplaces. Apparently its primary focus is to monitor people with conditions like diabetes and epilepsy, but he also said it provided the service of being an anonymous place for employees to report any abuse or sexual harassement that is occuring at work.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Report Cards
I hear that it's report card season back in Canada, so I thought I'd share some of my experiences with report cards here, and other educational differences that I've noticed (aside from the fact that two year olds are 'taught' how to colour).
I have to do reports at both of my schools. For the nursery school, the director asked me a week in advance if I could prepare the marks for all of the kids. I had to grade them in four different areas, with marks ranging from 1-3. No big deal. Anyway, it turns out that these reports were a big deal for the school. The teachers had just rewritten them, as they decided the old ones were too difficult and time consuming (and who wants to do this kind of thing in June? she asked me). To prove her point, the director showed my a sample of the previous report that the parents got. The report was three pages of anecdotal comments on the childs progress throughout the year. It was only done in June. The kids are 2-5yrs old. The parents pay a couple of thousand euros a year to send their kids to the school. The biggest class has 15 kids. Anyway. They changed it to a two page chart where the kids will be given marks for everything. Then a short space for some general comments. Not a terrible idea, until I saw how they were going to be marked. The 4year old teacher gave the class colouring sheets, sat down at a separate table with one other student, the report card in front of her, and tested them. And marked them directly on the report card.
Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't particularly enjoy writing report cards last year. Lets be honest. They really weren't fun at all. All the teachers in the staff room at my school would always talk about how clean their houses were around report card time. How you all of a sudden have time to start that home improvement project, and take up Japanese cooking. In fact I believe I really got into learning how to speak Japanese in the middle of one reporting period. But I couldn't believe that the teachers complained about doing it ONCE a year, and it got changed. Similar situation at the other school. The reports were handed out for us to complete. It was a general one page checklist-type, with a whole page for comments on the back. The next week the director sends us all an email apologizing for giving us the wrong forms. We should fill out the new short form reports, as was decided at a staff meeting in the fall. Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining, but I am still finding that there are so many better things to do here in Paris than fill out those reports...
Other interesting things that I've noticed about school:
-the kids learn how to write in cursive first. The four and five year olds at the nursery school have a special 'graphisme' teacher to teaches them how to write. Many of my 8-9year olds have a difficult time reading my printing (although I think they'd have a harder time reading my cursive...)
-no pencils allowed! When kids start school, they write with fountain pens. Not a ball point pen, but the kind with the ink cartridge. Which can mean a huge mess if students decide that playing with their pen is more interesting than listening to you. It also means that NONE of my 8-9yr olds ever have a pencil with them in class. They do have copious amounts of white out and other ink erasing devices. Basically, they are not allowed to make mistakes.
-younger kids NEVER sit on the carpet. I've had a hard time with this one. The 2-3 year olds are alright at it, but from 4+, it's just not something they do. They put their chairs in a circle formation if they need to, but basically all of their learning at school is done at their desk. My 8-9yr olds have the hardest time on the carpet. When I read a story, there is always at least three kids who just can't do it. They go back to their seats.
-I still have a hard time with the fact that there is a 'right' and a 'wrong' way to do everything (and of course I feel like I'm always doing it the 'wrong' way). From sitting on your chair (both legs under the table at all times), to colouring (you're not allowed to turn the paper), to eating (use your fork and knife), to writing (there is only one way to form your numbers, regardless of how they look if you form them another way).
That's about it. I don't mean to be critical, but I do find the differences to be incredibly interesting. Kind of like when we were in Japan. But I understand a lot more of what's going on here. And it's the complete opposite: no teachers working 24/7 to prepare their grade one marching band during their summer vacation.
I have to do reports at both of my schools. For the nursery school, the director asked me a week in advance if I could prepare the marks for all of the kids. I had to grade them in four different areas, with marks ranging from 1-3. No big deal. Anyway, it turns out that these reports were a big deal for the school. The teachers had just rewritten them, as they decided the old ones were too difficult and time consuming (and who wants to do this kind of thing in June? she asked me). To prove her point, the director showed my a sample of the previous report that the parents got. The report was three pages of anecdotal comments on the childs progress throughout the year. It was only done in June. The kids are 2-5yrs old. The parents pay a couple of thousand euros a year to send their kids to the school. The biggest class has 15 kids. Anyway. They changed it to a two page chart where the kids will be given marks for everything. Then a short space for some general comments. Not a terrible idea, until I saw how they were going to be marked. The 4year old teacher gave the class colouring sheets, sat down at a separate table with one other student, the report card in front of her, and tested them. And marked them directly on the report card.
Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't particularly enjoy writing report cards last year. Lets be honest. They really weren't fun at all. All the teachers in the staff room at my school would always talk about how clean their houses were around report card time. How you all of a sudden have time to start that home improvement project, and take up Japanese cooking. In fact I believe I really got into learning how to speak Japanese in the middle of one reporting period. But I couldn't believe that the teachers complained about doing it ONCE a year, and it got changed. Similar situation at the other school. The reports were handed out for us to complete. It was a general one page checklist-type, with a whole page for comments on the back. The next week the director sends us all an email apologizing for giving us the wrong forms. We should fill out the new short form reports, as was decided at a staff meeting in the fall. Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining, but I am still finding that there are so many better things to do here in Paris than fill out those reports...
Other interesting things that I've noticed about school:
-the kids learn how to write in cursive first. The four and five year olds at the nursery school have a special 'graphisme' teacher to teaches them how to write. Many of my 8-9year olds have a difficult time reading my printing (although I think they'd have a harder time reading my cursive...)
-no pencils allowed! When kids start school, they write with fountain pens. Not a ball point pen, but the kind with the ink cartridge. Which can mean a huge mess if students decide that playing with their pen is more interesting than listening to you. It also means that NONE of my 8-9yr olds ever have a pencil with them in class. They do have copious amounts of white out and other ink erasing devices. Basically, they are not allowed to make mistakes.
-younger kids NEVER sit on the carpet. I've had a hard time with this one. The 2-3 year olds are alright at it, but from 4+, it's just not something they do. They put their chairs in a circle formation if they need to, but basically all of their learning at school is done at their desk. My 8-9yr olds have the hardest time on the carpet. When I read a story, there is always at least three kids who just can't do it. They go back to their seats.
-I still have a hard time with the fact that there is a 'right' and a 'wrong' way to do everything (and of course I feel like I'm always doing it the 'wrong' way). From sitting on your chair (both legs under the table at all times), to colouring (you're not allowed to turn the paper), to eating (use your fork and knife), to writing (there is only one way to form your numbers, regardless of how they look if you form them another way).
That's about it. I don't mean to be critical, but I do find the differences to be incredibly interesting. Kind of like when we were in Japan. But I understand a lot more of what's going on here. And it's the complete opposite: no teachers working 24/7 to prepare their grade one marching band during their summer vacation.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
A Shitty Day
***I thought long and hard about the title for this post, and I apologize for the vulgarity, but there just didn't seem to be another word that summed up the day so well. I'll try to keep the swearing to a minimum in the post***
After a later than usual night filled with more wine than I usually drink on a weeknight, I dragged myself out of bed this morning to face the day. It wasn't pretty. Grey and drizzly AGAIN. I swear it's been raining non-stop for about a month, and it sucks. I almost wish it were snowing. Almost. To make things better, I left my umbrella in Erik's bag last night, and forgot to retrieve it this morning.
The trip to work was surprisingly uneventful.
The school day got off to a bad start when the two-year old teacher told me that she was upset that I had had her kids colouring on Tuesday. They haven't learned how to colour yet. They're working up to it. They have to do it with her first. Great. There goes the mornings plans.
I had gotten cornered by a parent a couple of weeks ago who wanted to a presentation on South African animals in my class. I thought it sounded interesting, but told him to talk to the director first because I wasn't sure what the procedure was for this sort of thing. Well, it turns out that this is the craziest parent in the school, and I have obviously bitten off more than I could chew. Of course today was his first of three lessons that he will be doing with the three year olds. Of course having a change in their routine makes the kids even crazier than usual. Of course this parent has no idea how to keep the lesson moving. Of course the parent feels that it is necessary to give me teaching tips, and to tell me which kids to keep in separate groups (the kids he was speaking about are never in the same group for English. They've had English all year. The teachers figured out a long time ago that they shouldn't be together). Of course the five year old teacher (whose class is separated from mine by a folding wall) complains that the parent is very loud (he is).
It's Thursday, and I spend the whole day at the Nursery school, and eat lunch with the younger kids. Lunch sucks. Salty soup, mashed potatoes, and the most disgusting beef type meat you've ever seen. To top all that, one of the kids at my table decides to go to the bathroom in his pants (hence the title). Guess who gets to deal with it? It's not often that you wish that kids had peed their pants...
Anyway, we're up in the bathroom, with almost the entire school trying to go pee before naptime on two toilets. The kid has tights on, and insists that I help him get undressed (fair enough, he's three). Of course in the process of pulling off his pants, tights and gross underwear, the you-know-what gets smeared down the insides of both legs. Now all the other kids are pointing and talking about how "il a fait caca dans ses pantalons". So I start cleaning him up with the wipes that are sitting in the bathroom. On of the other teachers comes in to see what is taking so long, and tells me that the wipes that I am using are actually for CLEANING THE BATHROOM. Not for wiping caca off a three year old. So she goes and gets the baby wipes and clean pants and underwear, and we continue on with the process. About thirty minutes later the kid is cleaned up and ready to go.
It really didn't matter what else happened after that. It couldn't get any worse. Except that it was pouring rain when I left without my umbrella. And I missed my stop on the metro.
Tonight Erik and I get to carry our new oven back to the Darty to see if they can fix it (ten euros says they can't).
Then I'm going to bed.
After a later than usual night filled with more wine than I usually drink on a weeknight, I dragged myself out of bed this morning to face the day. It wasn't pretty. Grey and drizzly AGAIN. I swear it's been raining non-stop for about a month, and it sucks. I almost wish it were snowing. Almost. To make things better, I left my umbrella in Erik's bag last night, and forgot to retrieve it this morning.
The trip to work was surprisingly uneventful.
The school day got off to a bad start when the two-year old teacher told me that she was upset that I had had her kids colouring on Tuesday. They haven't learned how to colour yet. They're working up to it. They have to do it with her first. Great. There goes the mornings plans.
I had gotten cornered by a parent a couple of weeks ago who wanted to a presentation on South African animals in my class. I thought it sounded interesting, but told him to talk to the director first because I wasn't sure what the procedure was for this sort of thing. Well, it turns out that this is the craziest parent in the school, and I have obviously bitten off more than I could chew. Of course today was his first of three lessons that he will be doing with the three year olds. Of course having a change in their routine makes the kids even crazier than usual. Of course this parent has no idea how to keep the lesson moving. Of course the parent feels that it is necessary to give me teaching tips, and to tell me which kids to keep in separate groups (the kids he was speaking about are never in the same group for English. They've had English all year. The teachers figured out a long time ago that they shouldn't be together). Of course the five year old teacher (whose class is separated from mine by a folding wall) complains that the parent is very loud (he is).
It's Thursday, and I spend the whole day at the Nursery school, and eat lunch with the younger kids. Lunch sucks. Salty soup, mashed potatoes, and the most disgusting beef type meat you've ever seen. To top all that, one of the kids at my table decides to go to the bathroom in his pants (hence the title). Guess who gets to deal with it? It's not often that you wish that kids had peed their pants...
Anyway, we're up in the bathroom, with almost the entire school trying to go pee before naptime on two toilets. The kid has tights on, and insists that I help him get undressed (fair enough, he's three). Of course in the process of pulling off his pants, tights and gross underwear, the you-know-what gets smeared down the insides of both legs. Now all the other kids are pointing and talking about how "il a fait caca dans ses pantalons". So I start cleaning him up with the wipes that are sitting in the bathroom. On of the other teachers comes in to see what is taking so long, and tells me that the wipes that I am using are actually for CLEANING THE BATHROOM. Not for wiping caca off a three year old. So she goes and gets the baby wipes and clean pants and underwear, and we continue on with the process. About thirty minutes later the kid is cleaned up and ready to go.
It really didn't matter what else happened after that. It couldn't get any worse. Except that it was pouring rain when I left without my umbrella. And I missed my stop on the metro.
Tonight Erik and I get to carry our new oven back to the Darty to see if they can fix it (ten euros says they can't).
Then I'm going to bed.
Monday, March 06, 2006
les appartements de Napoleon
Sorry to all our faithful readers for the lack of regular posts. Sometimes I don't know where the time goes. Last week passed so quickly, I must have checked my calendar three times to make sure it was Friday. It was also one of those weeks where nothing seemed to work out, which might have explained my extreme frustration with DHL. I apologize for the grumpy venting posts regarding our camera. I was so excited to have it back, and so frustrated to have it be so close, but still so far away.
Anyway, I've managed to get past all the frustration, mostly because we had a busy weekend, and because we're hoping that someone will bring it with them when they come to visit. I won't tell you who it is because it's not for sure yet, but we're pretty excited anyway.
Saturday we went out to Ikea again, to pick up some more necessities. We rented a car this time, which made it much easier to get everything home, but much harder to not get completly stressed out driving there. We don't actually have a road map of Paris, so although the written driving directions I'd copied off the Ikea site were somewhat useful, they weren't too helpful when we got lost. Erik will tell you that we're never renting a car again, but that's a whole other story....
We finished off our Saturday by buying an oven. We were feeling quite pleased with ourselves for having found a good deal on a fairly large table top oven. It was the last one in the store, and we walked out with the floor model. Wouldn't you know it, but of course it doesn't work. So we have a really pretty oven sitting on our really pretty new Ikea oven stand, but it's not functional.
But that's not why I'm writing. Things started looking up on Sunday. It was a beautiful sunny day, and I decided I was going to make pancakes for breakfast despite the fact that I didn't have white flour, a pancake flipper, or maple syrup. The results were surprisingly tasty. Whole wheat flour pancakes, flipped with by a knife and a wooden spoon, and a whole lot of butter. Butter makes everything taste good. And because we didn't have syrup, I melted some more butter with brown sugar and creme fraiche to make a sort of caramel. Quite tasty.
Another failed trip to the gym meant I had time to meet with Janna, a friend of my cousins, who is here going to school. We had a nice time wandering around our new neighbourhood, and found a cute little cafe for lunch, just in time, because it started to pour as soon as we were inside.
After lunch we met up with some other friends at the Louvre. It was the first Sunday of the month, which means that many museums in the city are free. And crowded. We were a little bit late getting there, and the girls had already gone in, so we stood in a line that stretched almost all the way around the pyramid. It actually moved quite quickly, and I ran into someone that I worked with at Camp U of T, which made the time pass even faster.
Once inside, having found Zoe, Hillary and Aurelie, we wandered through the Richelieu wing, specifically the Dutch artists, I think. Fairly interesting, although there seemed to be a lot of paintings of dead animals. We did see the two Vermeer paintings, which were quite impressive. I loved the Astrologue. The detail is unbelievable. Anyway, Hillary wanted to see Napoleons Apartments, so we headed down there on our way out.
They were spectacular! The first room that we walked into was his bedroom. An enormous canopy bed, with ostrich feathers on the canopy, and layers of blue velvet. The bed was surrounded by elaborate chairs (for his servants?), and was other wise empty, except for some elegant window treatments. After passing through the rooms displaying the china and silverware (quite elaborate and beautiful. One of the silver teapots had a little basket thing attached to the spout that I thought was interesting. To catch drips?), we came to the dining room. It was MAGNIFICENT!!! A Huge table in the middle of the most ornately decorated room I have ever seen. The ceiling was painted, as well as a large portion of the wall at one end in fantastic murals, and the mouldings were huge and gold! Not to mention the three enormous chandeliers that Aurelie pointed out must have been fun to light when they were actually candles. The room was breathtaking. From there we moved through some sitting rooms, one with interesting three-person chairs, and enormous portraits of Napoleon and his wife. Unfortunately we weren't able to go much farther as it was closing time, and if there's one thing they do well here (except for bread, and wine, and food, and cheese...) it's get people out of places at closing time. They heard you out, and form human barriers. Zoe had to show her coat check stub to be allowed to cross the lobby to get her coat. We had to wait outside. I was surprised there weren't any dogs!! We will definetly have to go back. This was only my second time at the Louvre, and until we got to the apartments, I always feel like I don't really know enough about art (I don't).
Of course any afternoon at the museum isn't complete without a stop for a cafe, or a hot chocolate. We headed to a cute little bakery/cafe in the Marais, and then Erik and I decided to walk home. It was a bit of a hike, but as always, an adventure.
There you go. Another Sunday in Paris.
Anyway, I've managed to get past all the frustration, mostly because we had a busy weekend, and because we're hoping that someone will bring it with them when they come to visit. I won't tell you who it is because it's not for sure yet, but we're pretty excited anyway.
Saturday we went out to Ikea again, to pick up some more necessities. We rented a car this time, which made it much easier to get everything home, but much harder to not get completly stressed out driving there. We don't actually have a road map of Paris, so although the written driving directions I'd copied off the Ikea site were somewhat useful, they weren't too helpful when we got lost. Erik will tell you that we're never renting a car again, but that's a whole other story....
We finished off our Saturday by buying an oven. We were feeling quite pleased with ourselves for having found a good deal on a fairly large table top oven. It was the last one in the store, and we walked out with the floor model. Wouldn't you know it, but of course it doesn't work. So we have a really pretty oven sitting on our really pretty new Ikea oven stand, but it's not functional.
But that's not why I'm writing. Things started looking up on Sunday. It was a beautiful sunny day, and I decided I was going to make pancakes for breakfast despite the fact that I didn't have white flour, a pancake flipper, or maple syrup. The results were surprisingly tasty. Whole wheat flour pancakes, flipped with by a knife and a wooden spoon, and a whole lot of butter. Butter makes everything taste good. And because we didn't have syrup, I melted some more butter with brown sugar and creme fraiche to make a sort of caramel. Quite tasty.
Another failed trip to the gym meant I had time to meet with Janna, a friend of my cousins, who is here going to school. We had a nice time wandering around our new neighbourhood, and found a cute little cafe for lunch, just in time, because it started to pour as soon as we were inside.
After lunch we met up with some other friends at the Louvre. It was the first Sunday of the month, which means that many museums in the city are free. And crowded. We were a little bit late getting there, and the girls had already gone in, so we stood in a line that stretched almost all the way around the pyramid. It actually moved quite quickly, and I ran into someone that I worked with at Camp U of T, which made the time pass even faster.
Once inside, having found Zoe, Hillary and Aurelie, we wandered through the Richelieu wing, specifically the Dutch artists, I think. Fairly interesting, although there seemed to be a lot of paintings of dead animals. We did see the two Vermeer paintings, which were quite impressive. I loved the Astrologue. The detail is unbelievable. Anyway, Hillary wanted to see Napoleons Apartments, so we headed down there on our way out.
They were spectacular! The first room that we walked into was his bedroom. An enormous canopy bed, with ostrich feathers on the canopy, and layers of blue velvet. The bed was surrounded by elaborate chairs (for his servants?), and was other wise empty, except for some elegant window treatments. After passing through the rooms displaying the china and silverware (quite elaborate and beautiful. One of the silver teapots had a little basket thing attached to the spout that I thought was interesting. To catch drips?), we came to the dining room. It was MAGNIFICENT!!! A Huge table in the middle of the most ornately decorated room I have ever seen. The ceiling was painted, as well as a large portion of the wall at one end in fantastic murals, and the mouldings were huge and gold! Not to mention the three enormous chandeliers that Aurelie pointed out must have been fun to light when they were actually candles. The room was breathtaking. From there we moved through some sitting rooms, one with interesting three-person chairs, and enormous portraits of Napoleon and his wife. Unfortunately we weren't able to go much farther as it was closing time, and if there's one thing they do well here (except for bread, and wine, and food, and cheese...) it's get people out of places at closing time. They heard you out, and form human barriers. Zoe had to show her coat check stub to be allowed to cross the lobby to get her coat. We had to wait outside. I was surprised there weren't any dogs!! We will definetly have to go back. This was only my second time at the Louvre, and until we got to the apartments, I always feel like I don't really know enough about art (I don't).
Of course any afternoon at the museum isn't complete without a stop for a cafe, or a hot chocolate. We headed to a cute little bakery/cafe in the Marais, and then Erik and I decided to walk home. It was a bit of a hike, but as always, an adventure.
There you go. Another Sunday in Paris.
Friday, March 03, 2006
A Return Trip
Today's conversation with the snooty French DHL woman:
Her: You have to pay 64 euros to get your camera
Me: I don't understand why I have to pay if it is my own personal camera that I've owned for over a year.
Her: I told you yeterday. If you don't have the reciept with your name on it, you have to pay taxes. It will cost 64 euros.
Me: It seems silly to me to have to pay 64 euros after having spent X amount of money getting the camera repaired. What happens if I don't pay?
Her: The camera will be returned to Karina, and she will not have to pay for any of the shipping.
Me: Fine. I guess you should send it back.
Her: Alright, I will inform the shipping company. Have a nice day!!! (overly pleasant tone of voice).
Me: Click.
Once again, I am ridiculously frustrated. The camera is now on it's way back to St. Albert, and I have no idea how to get it here. We obviously don't have a purchase reciept, and cannot get one.
I have to say it seems like the cost of sending this stupid camera from Canada and back is probably way more than 64 euros.
And why the heck did the shipping company not know about all this before it even got sent? Isn't it their job to ship things internationally?
Grrrrrr.....
Her: You have to pay 64 euros to get your camera
Me: I don't understand why I have to pay if it is my own personal camera that I've owned for over a year.
Her: I told you yeterday. If you don't have the reciept with your name on it, you have to pay taxes. It will cost 64 euros.
Me: It seems silly to me to have to pay 64 euros after having spent X amount of money getting the camera repaired. What happens if I don't pay?
Her: The camera will be returned to Karina, and she will not have to pay for any of the shipping.
Me: Fine. I guess you should send it back.
Her: Alright, I will inform the shipping company. Have a nice day!!! (overly pleasant tone of voice).
Me: Click.
Once again, I am ridiculously frustrated. The camera is now on it's way back to St. Albert, and I have no idea how to get it here. We obviously don't have a purchase reciept, and cannot get one.
I have to say it seems like the cost of sending this stupid camera from Canada and back is probably way more than 64 euros.
And why the heck did the shipping company not know about all this before it even got sent? Isn't it their job to ship things internationally?
Grrrrrr.....
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Canada Post and French Customs: the adventure of an innocent little digital camera.
Warning: This post is primarily a vent. I'm feeling quite frustrated right now.
Let me bring you up to date: The story starts on Christmas morning, when Torie enthusiastically tries to take a picture of the Christmas tree. The enthusiasm causes the camera to leap out of Tories hands mid-picture, and land on the floor. The jump forces the lens out of alignment, and Erik has to jam the front part back in the camera to turn it off. No more pictures we taken with that camera.
In steps the hero of the story: Karina, the belle soeur. She offers to take the camera home with her, because Erik and Torie think that it should be repaired in Canada, in case they have some kind of warranty that they don't know about. Karina takes the camera back to St. Albert and sends it to Canon in Calgary to get fixed.
Camera gets fixed in far fewer than the 15 business days they promised. Karina heads to her trusty local Canada Post to send the camera, courier, back to Paris, where Torie and Erik are eagerly anticipating it's arrival. The camera has to arrive in Paris that week, as Torie and Erik are moving that weekend. Canada Post recommends Purolator, and guarantees arrival by Thursday at the latest. Great. That's two days before the move.
Thursday rolls around, sans camera. Torie chalks it up to a time difference. Patientez, she says. Friday comes and goes, with still no sign of the camera. Tracking the package reveals that it has arrived in France, and is in Roissy, and listed as being 'At Gateway'.
No problem, T and E don't have to give their keys back until Tuesday, and surely the camera will arrive by then. Karina complains to Canada Post that the package that was 'guaranteed' hasn't arrived yet. They inform her that France isn't a 'guaranteed' location. Torie tells Karina that she is getting French style service, in Canada. Torie apologizes for sending bad French service vibes in the directions of Canada.
Continued tracking lists the package as having a 'clearance delay'. Torie emails the shipping company to ask for more info. Karina talks to Canada Post who say that the package is being held by customs, and that T and E need to contact them. But they can't give them a phone number. The shipping company puts Torie in contact with their France counterpart. Torie recieves a message this morning on her phone.
And this is where the story gets frustrating. After listening to the message, and returning the call, I discovered why the package was delayed (I still don't know how long they would have held the package had we not started asking about it). They needed to know what kind of camera it was. Picture or video. Digital or not. They also needed a copy of my passport, and a personal purchase reciept from when we bought the camera (OVER ONE YEAR AGO. Who keeps reciepts that long????). If we can't provide the reciept, we have to pay import taxes on the camera. I am now waiting for the friendly (insert sarcasm here) woman to call me back and tell me how much the taxes are. Then hopefully I will be able to find out how the heck we can get our camera back without paying tax on it.
Am feeling very very frustrated right now.
Let me bring you up to date: The story starts on Christmas morning, when Torie enthusiastically tries to take a picture of the Christmas tree. The enthusiasm causes the camera to leap out of Tories hands mid-picture, and land on the floor. The jump forces the lens out of alignment, and Erik has to jam the front part back in the camera to turn it off. No more pictures we taken with that camera.
In steps the hero of the story: Karina, the belle soeur. She offers to take the camera home with her, because Erik and Torie think that it should be repaired in Canada, in case they have some kind of warranty that they don't know about. Karina takes the camera back to St. Albert and sends it to Canon in Calgary to get fixed.
Camera gets fixed in far fewer than the 15 business days they promised. Karina heads to her trusty local Canada Post to send the camera, courier, back to Paris, where Torie and Erik are eagerly anticipating it's arrival. The camera has to arrive in Paris that week, as Torie and Erik are moving that weekend. Canada Post recommends Purolator, and guarantees arrival by Thursday at the latest. Great. That's two days before the move.
Thursday rolls around, sans camera. Torie chalks it up to a time difference. Patientez, she says. Friday comes and goes, with still no sign of the camera. Tracking the package reveals that it has arrived in France, and is in Roissy, and listed as being 'At Gateway'.
No problem, T and E don't have to give their keys back until Tuesday, and surely the camera will arrive by then. Karina complains to Canada Post that the package that was 'guaranteed' hasn't arrived yet. They inform her that France isn't a 'guaranteed' location. Torie tells Karina that she is getting French style service, in Canada. Torie apologizes for sending bad French service vibes in the directions of Canada.
Continued tracking lists the package as having a 'clearance delay'. Torie emails the shipping company to ask for more info. Karina talks to Canada Post who say that the package is being held by customs, and that T and E need to contact them. But they can't give them a phone number. The shipping company puts Torie in contact with their France counterpart. Torie recieves a message this morning on her phone.
And this is where the story gets frustrating. After listening to the message, and returning the call, I discovered why the package was delayed (I still don't know how long they would have held the package had we not started asking about it). They needed to know what kind of camera it was. Picture or video. Digital or not. They also needed a copy of my passport, and a personal purchase reciept from when we bought the camera (OVER ONE YEAR AGO. Who keeps reciepts that long????). If we can't provide the reciept, we have to pay import taxes on the camera. I am now waiting for the friendly (insert sarcasm here) woman to call me back and tell me how much the taxes are. Then hopefully I will be able to find out how the heck we can get our camera back without paying tax on it.
Am feeling very very frustrated right now.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Oh, the Places We Will Eat!
We had dinner tonight at a Japanese restaurant in our new neighbourhood. While we were sharing our thoughts on the food (it was pretty tasty!) I mentioned that I still miss a good bento box from I Love Sushi in Toronto.
This inspired a game to guess each others top five places they want to eat at when we are back in Toronto. We then narrowed it down to four, because the obvious number one for both of us was Sneaky Dee's. It was interesting, and in the end, limiting the list to five was obviously too restricting.
So here they are:
Erik's Top Four (in no particular order)
1. Sanguiches (an Italian sandwich place somewhere in the heart of Little Italy)
2. Pho Hung (for some reason it took a lot of prompting for me to guess this one)
3. I Love Sushi
4. Indian buffet from any of the places around U of T
Torie's Top Four
1. I Love Sushi
2. Indian food in general along Queen West, including Rasoee the fast food Indian joint where two can dine with a bottle of wine for $29.99
3. Chinese food--a tie between the Golden Leaf and the dim sum place with the dragons outside on Spadina
4. Terroni's, the one on Queen west, of course
Other favorites that came up, that should also have made the list:
-the Hungary Thai--a Thai and Hungarian restaurant in Kensington market that has live synthesizer, if you're lucky
-Mezes on the Danforth
-restaurants that we had only been to once or twice, but would like to go back to, such as Crush Wine Bar and Marcel's.
-the Real Jerk
-Romagnia Mia
-wings from the Wheat Sheaf
-Hero Burger---seems like we ate there more than once on the way out to Sharon and Harry's with a load of stuff before we left.
Ahhh...good memories.
Not to worry, we're in the process of finding new favorites here in Paris. The Indian restaurant next door was quite good, and the Japanese place tonight was also fantastic, but it's hard to compare one overpriced bowl of unagi don with a $10 bento box filled with a little bit of everything. I like my variety. Just ask Erik about the lunches I used to pack.
This inspired a game to guess each others top five places they want to eat at when we are back in Toronto. We then narrowed it down to four, because the obvious number one for both of us was Sneaky Dee's. It was interesting, and in the end, limiting the list to five was obviously too restricting.
So here they are:
Erik's Top Four (in no particular order)
1. Sanguiches (an Italian sandwich place somewhere in the heart of Little Italy)
2. Pho Hung (for some reason it took a lot of prompting for me to guess this one)
3. I Love Sushi
4. Indian buffet from any of the places around U of T
Torie's Top Four
1. I Love Sushi
2. Indian food in general along Queen West, including Rasoee the fast food Indian joint where two can dine with a bottle of wine for $29.99
3. Chinese food--a tie between the Golden Leaf and the dim sum place with the dragons outside on Spadina
4. Terroni's, the one on Queen west, of course
Other favorites that came up, that should also have made the list:
-the Hungary Thai--a Thai and Hungarian restaurant in Kensington market that has live synthesizer, if you're lucky
-Mezes on the Danforth
-restaurants that we had only been to once or twice, but would like to go back to, such as Crush Wine Bar and Marcel's.
-the Real Jerk
-Romagnia Mia
-wings from the Wheat Sheaf
-Hero Burger---seems like we ate there more than once on the way out to Sharon and Harry's with a load of stuff before we left.
Ahhh...good memories.
Not to worry, we're in the process of finding new favorites here in Paris. The Indian restaurant next door was quite good, and the Japanese place tonight was also fantastic, but it's hard to compare one overpriced bowl of unagi don with a $10 bento box filled with a little bit of everything. I like my variety. Just ask Erik about the lunches I used to pack.
Snow Day!
It snowed last night, and I didn't even realize it. I noticed some white stuff on the scooters parked outside the metro station, but didn't really think much of it, until I was on the train headed out of the city. The farther we got from Paris, the deeper the snow got. It was beautiful! There must have been about 5centimetres of the light, fluffy stuff. First thing in the morning it was still piled on the trees and pristine in the school fields.
And the kids loved it. First of all, everyone was late because of the roads (I don't think they salt when it only snows once or twice a year). It was like no one had ever seen snow before. My kids couldn't wait to go for lunch because they just wanted to touch the stuff. One of my kids got all the way to the cafeteria before he realized he forgot his lunch in the classroom. He told me he was so excited to play in the snow that it slipped his mind. I had to laugh. Of course recess involved a huge snowball fight, with massive snowballs and some tears, but no one was really hurt. Honestly they were so fascinated with the stuff ("look at the puddle! It's frozen!!!, etc), it was like they'd never seen it before. Which was odd because most of them went skiing for their holidays two weeks ago.
It seemed like a typical Canadian day to me, maybe a bit warmer (it was probably only -3), so I felt quite at home. And I laughed when people complained that it was cold. It wasn't any colder than any other day this week, the only difference was the white stuff on the ground. But the sun came out in the afternoon, and it all melted, and now I'm back in the snow-free city.
It was nice, though. For a day.
(pictures are of Erik's walk up to school this morning)
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